


drive all night

by landsliide



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Drabble, F/F, lipsoul
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 05:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19350475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/landsliide/pseuds/landsliide
Summary: Bodyguard Kim Jungeun and heiress Jung Jinsol





	drive all night

Jungeun is giving herself a final check over in the mirror - tugging on the lapels of her blazer and smoothing out the wrinkles of her t-shirt with a flat palm - when she hears the distinct crunch of car tyres over her gravel drive way. She flashes herself a quick smile, making sure there’s no spinach stuck in between her front teeth or anything equally embarrassing, before heading out the front door with a determined stride, ready for her first day of work.

 

Jungeun takes in the jet-black sedan with awe – it looks like a spaceship next to her own run-down heap of scrap metal of a vehicle. With a final deep breath, she approaches the car, sliding into the smooth leather interior of the backseat. The driver regards her with a silent nod through the rear-view mirror, expression masked by thick black sunglasses.

 

“Miss Kim Jungeun?”

 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Jungeun smiles as the nameless driver pulls out of her drive.

 

The journey from Jungeun’s modest apartment to her temporary residency is brief but she watches as the houses beyond the tinted car window develop from terraced strips of houses to what looks like _mansions_ to Jungeun – white picket fences, perfectly kept topiary and _holy fuck_ did that place have a _moat_?

 

Before she has a chance to crane her neck back to check, they’re heading up a long winding drive way – Jungeun can only assume this is the Jung residence.

 

The Jung household is everything Jungeun expected and more; a long, cobbled path, lined with hedges speckled with bursts of flowers like rainbow freckles, leading up to a great archway and a melodramatic set of double doors, sun glistening off the stained-glass windows. Jungeun gulps. Welcome home, she supposes, heaving the immense door open.

 

Her employer himself, Jung Jeongho, is awaiting her in the entry hall. He looks just like the headshots Jungeun has seen in the business magazines her dad used to leave on the coffee table; his expression is regal yet charismatic, hard features but soft, expressive eyes. She can see why so many investors trust him with great sums of money.

 

“Miss Jungeun,” he greets her - unexpectedly warm - shaking her hand with vigour. “It’s fantastic to meet you, I’ve heard great things about you.”

 

“Likewise, of course,” Jungeun blushes, bowing her head slightly.

 

“I appreciate you coming out here on such short notice – I’m flying out to Hong Kong for a business meeting in the morning and after the –“ he pauses, searching for the right term with a hand scratching his perfectly trimmed beard - “ _situation_ last week I just didn’t feel comfortable leaving my Jinsol here on her own. But I trust she’s in safe hands with you.”

 

Jungeun nods. She’d seen it in the news – _everyone_ had; precious Jung Jinsol, heiress to the Jung fortune, followed home by a group of ski mask clad hooligans in an unmarked land rover. She had made a lucky escape, seeking refuge at a neighbour’s house until the police arrived.

 

“I just need someone to escort her around until we all feel a bit safer; take her to college, sit through her classes with her, whatever she wants – within reason. You seem more than capable, no?” he challenges with a raise of his eyebrow.

 

“Absolutely sir.”

 

“Fantastic. You’ll be staying in the first room on the left when you go up the stairs, but you’ll have time to get settled in later – Jinsol’s first class is in twenty minutes so you two should really be heading off soon. I’m sure she’ll be down in a minute. Good luck Jungeun – don’t let me down.” And with that he’s off, giving Jungeun a final nod before marching off to his office, cell phone already glued to his ear in yet another business meeting. Jungeun let’s out a huge breath she didn’t realise she was holding in, wiping her clammy palms on the thighs of her jeans and tugging at her ponytail, tucking stray chestnut strands behind her ears.

 

Jungeun perches on an armchair while she waits for her client. She checks her wrist watch for what might be the fifteenth time. Jinsol is going to be late for class at this rate but Jungeun dare not rush her – not on her first day. She might be sent to the guillotine or something.

 

Finally, the unmistakeable sound of gentle feet pit-a-patting down the spiral staircase. Jungeun stumbles clumsily to her feet.

 

Jungeun has seen her face a million times before of course – in magazines, on social media and even on a game advertisement that one time – but _god_ Jinsol is even prettier in person. Her platinum blonde hair cascades over her narrow shoulders in waves, perfectly framing an angular face carved in marble; Jinsol is all sharp lines - a defined jaw and high cheekbones. Her dark eyes are sparkling under the glow of the hall’s chandelier and –

_Shit,_ Jungeun’s staring. Jinsol’s steely expression doesn’t look too impressed. _Oops._

 

“Good morning Jinsol,” Jungeun recovers, holding out a hand to the approaching blonde. “I’m Jungeun I’m gonna be your-“

 

“Babysitter, yeah, I know,” Jinsol interrupts, ignoring the outstretched palm and striding passed and out the door with a swish of her hair. Jungeun frowns, brows furrowing.

 

“I was going to say bodyguard but…” Jungeun trails off, jogging to overtake so she can open the car door for her. Jinsol simply huffs in response, rolling her eyes as she ducks into the vehicle.

 

Jungeun can already tell this is going to be a long first day.  

 

* * *

 

 

Being back in college is… _beyond_ weird for Jungeun. She feels as if she’ll be scolded for forgetting her homework any coming second by Jinsol’s weird biology teacher. He’s yammering on about cells or speciation or _something_ \- Jungeun had stopped paying attention forever ago and apparently Jinsol had too, judging by the doodles of fish in the margins of her spiral bound notebook. She’s no artist _that’s for sure_ but they’re cute nonetheless and Jungeun smiles to herself as she watches the blonde draw little bubbles around the fish’s gaping mouths. When Jinsol glances up to find Jungeun gazing fondly at the sea creatures, she snaps the notebook closed hastily.

 

* * *

 

 

If Jungeun thought biology was boring, it’s nothing compared to maths – algebra specifically. Jungeun had liked maths in high school – she was quite good at it even – but watching a class of college students struggle to balance equations wasn’t quite as fun as doing them herself.

 

“So ‘x’ equals six – did everyone get that?” questions the professor at the white board, back turned to the class as he scrawls the answer in thick blue ink. Jinsol sighs exasperatedly, scratching her head as she looks down at her notebook; ‘x = 96’. _How can you mess it up that badly,_ Jungeun wonders, trying to appear nonchalant as she peers over Jinsol’s shoulder at the mess of workings on her page.

 

“Here,” Jungeun breathes, scooting marginally closer. She doesn’t want to scare the blonde off again. “You multiplied by four here – you’re supposed to divide,” Jungeun corrects, tapping the page with the end of Jinsol’s pencil. The blonde scans the page a few times, eyebrows knitted together in concentration. Then – it clicks.

 

“Oh of course,” Jinsol murmurs, scribbling messy lines through her wrong workings. She beams down at the now correct page with pride. Jungeun hums contentedly. So, she _is_ human, she thinks.

 

Jinsol seems to catch herself suddenly and her smile drops, steely expression returning. She clears her throat abashedly.

 

Or… maybe not.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun has managed to survive three whole days of her new job; that’s three days of mind-numbing college lessons combined with the painfully awkward silence lingering between herself and Jinsol. Even their lunchtimes don’t involve an ounce of conversation –

 

Which is why Jungeun almost spits her coffee everywhere when Jinsol eventually does speak up.

 

“Huh?” she splutters into the back of her hand.

 

“I said, do you drive?” When Jungeun stares blankly, still in shock, Jinsol continues, “do you have a driver’s license?”

 

“Yeah - Yeah I can drive.”

 

“Do you have a car?” Jinsol asks, staring down at her lap and tugging the sleeves of her knitted jumper over her hands. Jungeun thinks to the pile of junk on her drive way at home and grimaces.

 

“Mmhmm.”

 

And just like that they fall back into silence, albeit slightly less uncomfortable now. Jungeun hides a smile behind her coffee cup.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun is out for a run that evening – Jinsol is shut in her room studying as per usual – when the sound of her ringtone interrupts her music. She slows to a gentle jog.

 

“Hello?” she answers into the mic of her earphones.

 

“Jungeun! It’s Jeongho,” the voice crunches through the phone line. Jungeun stops in her tracks.

 

“Oh! Good evening Sir, how can I help?”

 

“My daughter tells me the two of you have been getting on well which is, well, a miracle really,” her employer chuckles heartily. Jungeun narrows her eyebrows. _Getting on well?_ If that’s what you can call the painful silence the two girls sit in then _sure._

 

“Yeah she’s a really-“

 

“Listen Jungeun,” he interrupts and Jungeun swallows the rest of her sentence. “Jinsol has managed to convince me to allow you to drive her to college everyday – something about having a chauffeur being ‘too extra’. I think she’s just feeling a bit overwhelmed by everything. I understand you have a car.”

 

“Yes sir,” Jungeun manages to spit out, feeling a bit speechless.

 

“Of course I’d allow you to drive one of our cars but Jinsol has told me she wants to be… _normal…_ so I’m sure your car will be just fine. Drive safely of course.”

 

“Of course sir. Thank you.” They exchange brief goodbyes before hanging up. Jungeun stares down at the phone in her hand as if it’s a bomb.

 

_What the fuck?_

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun nervously drums her fingers on the steering wheel, blinking sleep out of her eyes. She _definitely_ hadn’t gotten out of bed a whole hour earlier just to empty the McDonalds bags out of the passenger footwell and febreeze the entire interior of her car. She swears she can still smell the distant stench of McNuggets but she prays it’s just her imagination- it’s making her kind of hungry. She can’t believe she’s carting the heiress of the Jung fortune to college in a _citroen saxo_. She sighs deeply. Her incessant worrying is halted when she sees a shock of blonde hair in her rear view window.

 

“Good morning,” Jungeun chirps, throwing a tentative smile in Jinsol’s direction. The blonde grunts in response, tossing her backpack into the footwell. A look of disgust falls over Jinsol’s delicate features.

 

“Jesus… what the fuck is this?” Jinsol exclaims. _Oh fuck_ Jungeun panics; did she miss a McDonalds wrapper or…

 

“Does this thing move?” _Oh,_ Jungeun realises. She’s talking about the car. Cool. “Why’s there no radio? And what is _that_?” Jungeun blinks.

 

“My radio kind of got uh… stolen.” Jungeun definitely should have trusted her gut instinct and _not_ parked down that dodgy back alley last spring. “And that’s,” she starts, pointing to the thing Jinsol is staring at with confusion and a tinge of disgust, “a gear stick. It’s a manual.” Jungeun shifts into first gear and takes off.

 

“A _manual???_ ” The bodyguard can’t help but laugh at the horrified expression of Jinsol’s face; it bursts out before she can swallow it down. She covers her mouth with one hand, the other firmly gripping the steering wheel as she whispers an apology. Jungeun catches a flicker of a smile of Jinsol’s lips.

 

* * *

 

 

“Go right here,” Jinsol breaks the silence, gesturing lazily.

 

“Huh?” Jungeun questions. They’re stopped at a red light, Jungeun relaxed with one hand on the wheel and one dangling out the window casually. There’s a gentle warm breeze and the sun is glowing amber low in the sky. “But the college is-“

 

“I know where the college is. Go right here.” Jungeun shifts in her seat, clearing her throat uncomfortably.

 

“My job is to escort you to college and make sure you get there safely every day, I don’t want to disrespect your father’s wishes,” she states firmly. Her job is stable, well paid and fairly easy; she’s not going to risk it.

 

“I know there’s things you’d rather be doing than sitting through my biology lessons with me every day,” Jinsol reasons, twisting in her seat to hold Jungeun’s stare. “I’m not gonna tell my dad if you don’t.” The blonde’s hand grabs Jungeun’s with desperation, her wide eyes and pouted lips a silent plea. The light is turning amber in the corner of Jungeun’s eye. Jinsol worries her bottom lip between pearly teeth.

 

“Shit,” Jungeun sighs, flipping her indicator from left to right. Jinsol flops back in her seat with a cheesy grin and an excited squeal of relief. “So where are we going?”

 

* * *

 

 

They’ve been driving around aimlessly for a while when Jungeun notices the flashing light on her gas tank.

 

“Hey Jinsol, I need to stop for gas okay?” Jinsol hums noncommittally in response, staring out the open window in a daze.

 

It’s not long before they happen across a gas station and Jungeun swings her car into an empty bay, throwing Jinsol a timid smile before clambering out of the car. She fills the tank, making a mental note of the pump number.

 

“Do you want anything?” Jungeun asks, leaning her head through the open driver’s side window and gesturing vaguely towards the gas station shop. “Like… snacks? Or…” Jinsol undoes her seatbelt without hesitation, swinging her legs gracefully out the car.

 

“I’ll come with you.”

 

Jungeun watches as Jinsol ponders through the small store, delicate fingers trailing across shelves. Every move seems so precise and elegant to Jungeun; the way her steps fall silently on the tiled floor, the way she brushes her stray blonde locks behind her ear with nimble fingers, the way her nose subconsciously scrunches when she’s thinking too hard – Jungeun can’t help but admire it.

 

Jinsol turns to the other girl suddenly, holding up a packet of candy in either hand. Jungeun feels her ears get hot at the thought of being caught staring, but if Jinsol notices she doesn’t make it obvious.

 

“Twizzlers or red vines?”

 

“Twizzlers, always,” Jungeun answers and Jinsol nods in agreement, tossing the red vines back on the shelf. When the blonde is satisfied with her snack haul, a tube of pringles stuffed firmly under her arm and two packs of twizzlers in hand, they make their way to the cashier.

 

“Pump number 7 please,” Jungeun says to the lanky looking dude at the till, digging her wallet out of her back pocket. Before she has a chance to count the right amount of wrinkled notes out, Jinsol is swiping her gold amex card through the machine.

 

“Hey no-“

 

“Come on,” Jinsol rolls her eyes. “I’m the heiress to the Jung fortune, Jungeun.” The cashier’s eyes widen and the shorter girl gulps; she’s never heard Jinsol say her name before. It sounds… different. Not bad but definitely _different_.

 

“That doesn’t mean you have to pay for my _gas_ , Jinsol,” she replies with a whine, frowning.

 

“You’ve driven me round all day. Plus… it’s my dad’s card,” the blonde admits, a pink hue staining the apples of her cheeks as she looks anywhere but at the other girl.

 

“Well… thanks.” Jinsol simply nods in acknowledgement as they head back to the car.

 

“Can we go to the beach?” the blonde asks, opening her tube of pringles. Jungeun hums happily in affirmation, patting the roof of her car lovingly.

 

“To the beach, Buffy!” she exclaims with a goofy grin.

 

“ _Buffy?_ ” Jinsol repeats, followed by a laugh that bubbles over and spills out her mouth like hot lava. Jungeun’s palms get sweaty at the sight of the Jinsol’s nose doing that cute scrunchy thing again. “Your car is called _Buffy?”_

 

“Shut up.” They clamber into the vehicle and Jungeun starts up the engine.

 

“Like the vampire slayer?” the blonde presses, leaning closer across the centre console. _Focus on the road Jungeun_ ¸ she repeats to herself, the empty streets suddenly appearing very interesting.

 

“Sarah Michelle Gellar is hot okay. Leave me alone.” Jinsol giggles behind a hand.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun stares out to the ocean, watching the waves gently push and pull at the golden sands. The sun is reaching it’s crescendo, white hot above them as they sprawl across an old blanket Jungeun had found in the trunk of her car.

 

“So why didn’t you want to go to college today?” Jungeun questions, breaking the peaceful silence they had been basking in. Jinsol takes her time to consider her answer, chewing thoughtfully on the twizzler hanging from her mouth.

 

“I guess I just wanted to feel like a normal kid and do something _interesting_ for once.” Jungeun hums. She had expected the girl to say there was a maths test she was avoiding, not… _that._ She turns to Jinsol; she looks lost in thought, eyebrows furrowed.

 

“Well, did your first skip day live up to it’s expectation?” Jungeun asks, nudging the girl’s shoulder with her own. Jinsol catches her gaze and they stare at each other in tense silence, Jungeun searching her dark eyes.

 

“Yeah. I’ve had a lot of fun actually,” Jinsol admits, knocking her white converse together and looking down bashfully, tracing patterns in the sand. “Thanks, I guess.” Jungeun shrugs noncommittally.

 

“You’re right, it beats biology.” Jinsol snorts, shaking her head.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun wakes up late that night to a rap of knuckles against wood and feet scuffling quickly along the hardwood floors. She swings her legs out of bed, stuffing her feet into slippers and shuffling to the door.

 

She finds the hallway empty when she swings the door open, cringing as it creaks loudly. She checks left, right, left again but… there’s nothing – just a brown paper package lying by her slippered feet. Gingerly, Jungeun picks it up, turning the box over in her hands suspiciously. It’s adorned with a small red bow and there’s something scribbled on the bottom right corner; Jungeun squints, sleep ridden eyes yet to adjust to the dim glow of the corridor. ‘ _For Buffy’._

 

Jungeun flops back down on her bed, flipping her bedside lamp on and peeling the brown paper off the parcel gently.

 

It’s a car radio.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun wakes up early the next morning, filled with childlike excitement to install her brand-new radio. She’s zipping up her black hoodie and tossing her backpack over her shoulder when she stumbles into Jinsol in the corridor.

 

Jinsol’s eyes are half closed, heavy with sleep, and she makes no effort to stifle the heavy yawn that slips passed soft lips. She’s still in her fluffy pink robe, hair tossed into a messy bun and a toothbrush dangling from her mouth.

 

“Oh,” Jinsol mumbles around the brush when she notices Jungeun. “Morning.”

 

“Good morning Jinsol. Listen – you really shouldn’t have-“

 

“Sh,” the robed girl hushes her, stepping forwards to press a finger against her lips. Jungeun goes cross eyed, staring wide eyed at the digit, ears burning. “Don’t mention it. Like seriously, shut up before you embarrass me.” Jungeun nods. “Good.” And with that, Jinsol, in a flash of pink fluff, has disappeared back into her bedroom. Jungeun looks around, dumbfounded.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun finds herself settling into a comfortable routine with Jinsol.

 

When Jinsol responds with the right answer when her biology professor picks on her in class, the blonde tosses Jungeun a smug grin and they high five under the table, giggling.

 

When Jinsol starts tugging at her hair frustratedly over a seemingly impossible algebra equation, Jungeun gently prises the golden locks out of her fists and explains the solution step by step patiently.

 

And when some loud-mouthed sleaze bag is walking too close to Jinsol, making her visibly uncomfortable with his obnoxious pick up lines, Jungeun might just happen to step on his untied laces at the right time, making him tumble clumsily to the floor.

 

“Need a hand?” Jungeun asks nonchalantly, offering him her outstretched palm. Jinsol giggles softly behind her.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun is staring at the whirring ceiling fan above her, watching it’s cyclical motions and willing them to send her to sleep, when she hears what sounds like gentle sobs from the room next door. _Jinsol?_ she thinks, jumping out of bed. She’s wearing her We Bare Bears pyjamas and her hair is loose and kind of tangled, but it doesn’t matter because Jinsol is _crying_ and it’s making her heart go a mile in a minute in a bad way.

 

“Jinsol?” she calls softly, knocking. She hears shuffling and sniffling from the other side of the thin wood door before a voice replies.

 

“Come in.” Jungeun peeks around the door as it creaks open.

 

Jinsol’s room is – well – _huge_ for a start. There’s a flat screen tv on the cerulean wall and her desk has the newest macbook settled in the centre. Her window is immense; the ledge littered with potted plants. Her dresser is covered in – _are those gundam models?_ She did _not_ pin Jinsol as the type but she supposes there’s a lot she doesn’t know about the enigmatic girl.

 

“Is everything okay?” Jungeun asks with a tilt of her head.

 

“Yeah,” Jinsol sniffles, rubbing at her right eye with the heel of her hand. “It’s stupid. Just a nightmare.” Jungeun takes a step inside, letting the door drift closed behind her.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jinsol shakes her head, lips in a pout as she stares down at her twisted hands. Jungeun knows she shouldn’t be thinking about how goddamn adorable she looks right now but… “Do you… uh should I? You know uh…” she clumsily mumbles, scratching the back of her neck in awkwardness with one hand and gesturing over her shoulder to the door with the other. Jinsol shakes her head again, gazing up at Jungeun with those puppy dog eyes she can’t resist.

 

“Just – come here,” the blonde instructs, shuffling over in the double bed to make space.

 

_Right,_ Jungeun thinks, sliding in next to the other girl and leaning stiffly against the headboard. _Of course._ Jinsol lays her head gently on the shorter girl’s lap, body curling up into the foetal position. _This is fine._

 

Tentatively at first, Jungeun starts to run her fingers through the blonde’s hair, tucking it behind her ears and scratching lightly at the nape of her neck. Jinsol hums contentedly like a cat and Jungeun tries to ignore the burning sensation on her cheeks and the tingling sensation in the tips of her toes.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” Jungeun presses gently, hand pausing. She can feel Jinsol freeze under her before she rolls over to hold the other girl’s gaze.

 

“It was about my mom,” Jinsol confesses, teeth worrying on a quivering bottom lip. Jungeun watches her throat bob as she swallows deeply. She knows Jinsol’s mom isn’t around anymore- everyone knows. “I was in the hospital at her bedside and-“ A choked sob spills out. _Oh fuck oh fuck._

“Oh god Jinsol I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to make you cry, I just – _fuck_ ,” Jungeun exhales, eyes wide with panic. Jinsol’s snivelling into her pyjama sleeve, tears flowing freely now. “Please don’t cry.” Jinsol shakes her head.

 

“I’m fine, seriously,” she reassures Jungeun with a wobbly smile, sitting up to face the other girl fully and laying a gentle hand over the brunette’s. “I’m fine.” Jungeun tries (and fails) not to blush at the feeling of Jinsol’s thumb rubbing at the soft skin of the back of her hand. A moment of comfortable silence passes before Jungeun speaks up again.

 

“My mum passed away when I was young too,” she admits, playing with a stray thread from her shorts with her one free hand.

 

“I’m sorry.” Jinsol’s dark eyes are brimming with sincerity, shining under the filtered glow of the moon. It’s overwhelming; Jungeun feels like she’s staring into the sun when she meets her gaze.  

 

“Anyway,” Jungeun starts, slapping her thigh. “You should get some sleep.” She shifts to get up, halfway out of the bed when she feels a firm, warm hand on her forearm.

 

“Stay with me,” she offers, her raised eyebrow more questioning than demanding. Jungeun hesitates, looking between Jinsol’s pleading eyes, the grip on her arm and the door. “Please?” she adds, tugging gently at the smaller girl’s pyjama sleeve.

 

“Okay. Sure,” Jungeun swallows shallowly, nodding as she slides back under Jinsol’s quilted duvet. She can feel the heat radiating from the other girl’s body like a log burner and she tries to ignore it as she stares up at the ceiling, willing her breaths to even out.

 

“You don’t have to be so _tense_ Jungeun. I feel like I’m sleeping next to a plank of wood,” Jinsol teases, jabbing the brunette in the bicep with a pointed finger. Jungeun rolls over to face her. “We’re friends right? So just… hold me.”

 

Jungeun struggles to swallow as the girls spend a few awkward seconds (that feel more like _hours_ really) trying to find a comfortable position together; Jungeun ends up with one arm wedged between their bodies holding onto Jinsol’s hip, the other draped over her shoulder. Both of Jinsol’s arms are wrapped around Jungeun’s waist and her head is tucked neatly into the space between the bodyguard’s neck and shoulder.

 

Jungeun tries to ignore the feeling of the blonde’s hot breath on her throat.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun brushes her teeth next to Jinsol the next morning and every time their eyes meet in the smudged bathroom mirror Jungeun blushes deep beetroot, bumping their shoulders together as Jinsol giggles helplessly.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun skips up the spiral staircase two steps at a time, desperate to jump in the shower after the lengthy, much-needed jog she had just taken. Her sports bra is stuck to her like glue, her entire body slick with sweat. She doesn’t even attempt to wipe away the beads of perspiration trickling down her forehead, blinking heavily as they drip off her jaw and glide down the length of her throat. Jungeun stretches her arms above her head with a groan one last time before spinning on the spot to head to the shower when –

 

“Jinsol,” she exhales. The blonde is glued to the spot opposite her, mouth slightly ajar and eyes… _roaming._ “I didn’t see you there.” Jinsol seems to be very distracted by something about her exposed midriff. “Jinsol?”

 

“Hey,” Jinsol finally acknowledges her breathily, striding forwards into Jungeun’s space and grabbing her wrist. “Let’s go,” the blonde instructs. When Jungeun simply raises an eyebrow in question, Jinsol tugs at her forearm. “My room.”

 

“I should shower, I’m all sweaty and-“

 

“Doesn’t bother me. Come on,” Jinsol insists. Her firm grip loosens, and her touch becomes softer and gentle, her thumb rubbing over Jungeun’s wrist. The bodyguard relents and allows Jinsol to drag her into her room.

 

Jinsol wastes no time in backing Jungeun up until the backs of her knees are pressed against the blonde’s mattress and her legs buckle, landing with a soft bump on the bed. Still, Jinsol is unrelenting, pressing forwards until she’s practically sitting on Jungeun’s lap, a knee either side of her gym legging clad thighs and a hand resting gently either side of her face. Her eyes are searching Jungeun’s desperately for something that she can’t seem to find as she leans in another millimetre and-

 

“Jinsol stop,” Jungeun firmly demands, a hand against the other’s girl’s chest. “This is - _beyond_ unprofessional.”

 

“Aren’t we beyond professionalism Jungeun?” Jinsol asks, voice barely a whisper. “I know you feel it too. You’re more than just some stupid bodyguard – you help me with my maths homework, we brush our teeth side by side – hell, we even _sleep_ side by side.” Her eyes are wide and pleading as her hands drop from Jungeun’s neck to rest on her shoulders.

 

“I’m sorry Jinsol,” she mumbles, avoiding the other girl’s eyes. The blonde slides off her lap, landing on the bed and pulling her knees to her chest defensively. Jungeun clears her throat as she shuffles toward the door.

 

“Wait, Jungeun – _shit,_ I’m sorry.”

 

“Goodnight Jinsol,” she deadpans, pulling the bedroom door closed behind her.

 

“Jungeun-“

 

The door clicks shut definitively. Jungeun hovers in the hallway uncertaintly; a string of curses tumbles from Jinsol’s tongue on the other side of the thin wall followed by the distinct sound of sniffling.

 

Great. Jungeun made Jung Jinsol cry. She’s officially the worst.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun is heading to reverse Buffy out of the garage the next morning when she halts in her tracks – there’s a black car, the black sedan, on the driveway.

 

“Hm?” Jungeun verbalises, but she doesn’t have much time to ponder before Jinsol is strutting past her out the front door and hopping into the backseat, leaving the car open behind her. A moment passes before she sticks her head out.

 

“Are you coming?”

 

_Right._ It’s like _that_ then Jungeun supposes.

 

* * *

 

 

When Jinsol’s maths teacher hands her latest graded maths worksheet back, he shoots her a disappointed look over the brim of his glasses scrutinizing her momentarily. Jinsol gulps, staring at the ‘D’ scribbled in harsh red sharpie. Jungeun pretends not to notice.

 

* * *

 

 

At lunch Jinsol sits in the library with a coffee and an open biology textbook. She acts like she doesn’t notice Jungeun watching her from between The Philosopher’s Stone and The Prisoner Of Azkaban on the fiction shelf.

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun trails five steps behind Jinsol as they stroll towards the campus car park at the end of the academic day, but she pauses when she notices the sedan isn’t pulled up next to the old oak tree as it usually is.

 

“Where’s the car?” Jungeun asks. She thinks it might be the first word she’s spoken to Jinsol all day.

 

“Don’t need it. Sooyoung is picking us up.”

 

“ _Sooyoung?_ ” Jungeun repeats incredulously. “Who’s _Sooyoung?_ ”

 

“My date.” Jinsol flicks a wave of blonde hair over her shoulder as she skips towards the burgundy Jeep at the furthest end of the carpark.

 

“ _Date???”_

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun isn’t quite sure how she ended up here, sitting in the local movie theatre two rows behind the girl she’s having – _gulp_ – serious feelings for and her _date._ She slurps indignantly at her blue slushie, squinting at the dull throb of brain freeze.

 

The film is dumb, Jungeun decides. In fact, movies in general are dumb, she concludes. Movie theatres are dumb. Sooyoung is _definitely_ dumb – Jungeun hates her dumb jeep; she hates the dumb way her rear view mirror _isn’t_ duct taped into place and the dumb way it doesn’t make a clunking noise when she shifts it into third gear. She hates Sooyoung’s dumb flawless face and her dumb long raven hair and the dumb way it falls perfectly over her dumb shoulders. She hates the way Sooyoung leans dumbly in towards Jinsol when they giggle at a dumb joke in the dumb movie. She _really_ hates the way Sooyoung has intertwined Jinsol’s fingers with her own and the way Jinsol’s dumb thumb is doing that _dumb fucking thing_ and rubbing at the back of Sooyoung’s dumb hand.

 

Jinsol glances over her shoulder briefly and when she meets Jungeun’s gaze, its white hot, like a lightning bolt. Jungeun forces herself to tear her eyes away, finding the film suddenly _very_ interesting.

 

_Dumb fucking Sooyoung._

 

* * *

 

 

“I have to pee,” Jungeun announces to no one in particular when they leave the theatre. Curse that extra-large blue slushie. “Don’t go anywhere without me.” Jinsol nods with a smirk, leaning into the arm around her shoulders.

 

When Jungeun returns to the lobby, she finds the love birds very quickly - making out against a cardboard cut-out of King Kong. _Stupid fucking dumb Sooyoung._

 

* * *

 

 

Jungeun hears sniffling – she’s sure of it, 100% sure – so why can’t she bring herself to go check on the blonde next door? It’s her job to make sure she’s safe and okay but her body is frozen, glued to the mattress. She hears another sniffle followed by a choked sob – okay that’s it, she’s getting out of bed.

 

“Jinsol? Is everything okay?” she whispers, peering around the door. She sees the silhouette of the blonde roll over away from her.

 

“Everything’s fine,” Jinsol lies through her teeth.

 

“It doesn’t _seem_ particularly fine,” Jungeun huffs, shifting a hip against the doorframe.

 

“Mind your own business.”

 

“Was it another nightmare?”

 

“I don’t need your pity Jungeun,” she spits, words like venom. “Leave me alone.” Jungeun nods.

 

“Of course.”

 

The sound of Jinsol’s repressed tears keeps her up all night.

 

* * *

 

 

Sooyoung comes over _all. The. Time._ Jungeun has discovered that perhaps she’s not _quite_ as dumb as she thought – maybe just 30%. She’s actually quite… kind, Jungeun has found out. She can understand why Jinsol adores her so much, as much as it pains her. Still, it doesn’t stop Jungeun from burying her head underneath her duck feather pillow at every girlish giggle she hears from the other room.

* * *

 

 

Sooyoung walks Jinsol to _all_ of her lessons. Jungeun trails along like a lost puppy as their shoulders brush and elbows knock; she pretends she’s not bothered, something she’s becoming very good at. She shouldn’t be bothered – unless, of course, Sooyoung is some kind of security threat, but the only weapon Jungeun has identified is that disarming smile of hers.

 

They’re in the history corridor, on their way to Jinsol’s Wednesday morning chemistry lecture when Sooyoung stops suddenly in her tracks, turning to the blonde.

 

“I almost forgot,” she announces, glancing sidelong at Jungeun. “Your maths teacher says he wants to meet with you – something about a recent test?” Jungeun frowns. Jinsol scrunches her nose.

 

“ _Shit._ Really?”

 

“Yeah, room S102,” Sooyoung continues, gesturing down the corridor. “It’s down here, I’ll show you.”

 

S102 turns out to be at the very, very end of the hallway, wedged between the sports hall and the library.  Jinsol peers on tippy toes through the black window.

 

“It doesn’t look like anyone’s in there Sooyoung,” Jinsol ponders aloud. Sooyoung flaps her hands dismissively.

 

“No, no, she’s waiting for you in there, I’m sure of it,” the tall girl reassures her. Jinsol creeps delicately inside, feeling along the wall for a light switch. “You too,” she instructs Jungeun as she shoves her through the door, slamming it shut behind her. The definitive sound of a lock turning echoes through the small space.

 

They’re in a cleaning cupboard.

 

“There’s _way_ too much gay tension between you two!” Sooyoung calls through the key hole. “Sort it out and thank me later.”

 

_Stupid fucking Sooyoung._

 

* * *

 

 

“Aren’t you supposed to keep me out of situations like this?” Jinsol complains, breaking the tense, gay silence they had been drowning in for almost ten minutes.

 

“She’s _your_ girlfriend,” Jungeun counters, folding her arms as she perches on a step ladder, feet swinging. There’s a single lightbulb dangling between them like mistletoe, it’s faint glow barely illuminating their faces.  

 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

  
  
“She’s one hundred percent your girlfriend.”

 

“Sooyoung is just my friend,” Jinsol sighs, rolling her eyes petulantly.

 

“Do you make out with all your friends?” Jungeun raises a smug eyebrow.

 

“That was _once._ It was the first and last time.”

 

“Hm,” Jungeun hums. Jinsol looks kind of ethereal; she’s making the overturned mop bucket seem like a throne with the way she’s posed on it under the yellow light filtered through the cupboard’s singular glass window. She’s like a cleaning cupboard nymph.

 

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s not fair,” Jinsol complains, catching Jungeun staring. The bodyguard feels a hot blush creep up her neck.

 

“Yes ma’am,” she grumbles under her breath.

 

“Don’t be smarmy,” she growls, huffing and crossing her arms. Jungeun pulls a face less subtle than she had hoped it to be. Jinsol huffs again, uncrossing her arms as she stands over Jungeun. “You don’t have the right to act like this.”

 

Jungeun gulps.

 

“ _You’re_ the one who rejected _me_ Jungeun. This was your choice,” Jinsol reminds her, pointing a finger at her chest, where her cold heart lies.

 

“I know.”

 

“ _You_ fucked it up.”

 

“I know,” Jungeun repeats. Her heart feels like it’s going to beat out of her chest at their close quarters, Jinsol continuing to inch forward with every stabbing statement.

 

“ _You_ broke _my_ heart.” Jungeun’s face cracks at the reminder, mouth twisting into a grimace as she stares anywhere but at Jinsol’s wide, hurt-filled eyes.

 

“I know,” she chokes out, sniffing subtly. Silence envelops them like a blanket. Jungeun tilts her head up to meet the blonde’s eyes timidly. “I’m sorry Jinsol.” The taller girl sighs deeply, dropping to her knees so they’re eye to eye.

 

“I’m sorry too,” she murmurs, reaching up to brush a teardrop from Jungeun’s cheek. “I’ve been a dick. I interpreted things wrong and then I – I took things out on you because my feelings were hurt. That wasn’t fair of me.”

 

“I _do_ care about you Jinsol.”

 

“If you care then,” Jinsol pauses, running her tongue along her bottom lip. “Then prove it, Jungeun. Take a chance for once.”

 

A moment that feels more like a lifetime passes between them and Jungeun swears she can feel the shift of the tide, she can feel the earth’s rotation, she can feel every atom in the room buzzing against her skin. There’s butterflies in her stomach – no there’s a _hurricane_ – and then, before she can overthink anymore, she’s pressing forwards into Jinsol’s space.

 

One of Jungeun’s hands makes it’s way to Jinsol’s neck, the other settling on the curve of her hip. Jungeun can feel every flutter of the blonde’s eyelashes, her eyes flickering closed as Jinsol’s lips find hers. It’s soft at first, and Jungeun feel’s as if she could cry at the tender exchange of whisper-like touches. It’s all the clichés and more; fireworks couldn’t begin to describe the surge of emotion in her chest. Before she knows what’s happening, Jungeun is stumbling backwards with Jinsol in her arm’s slamming into the shelves and sending bottles of glass cleaner and dish soap scattering everywhere. And then they’re spinning around and – somehow Jungeun ends up sitting in a mop bucket, arms and legs in the air like an upturned tortoise.

 

“I’m stuck,” she whines and Jinsol can’t help but cackle as she leans down to steal another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song drive all night by joan!
> 
> you can find more of my aus at @thotlipsoul on twitter or hmu at @lesbianirene for general shitposting


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